About 40 Whatever

BFF's Bad Kitty of Wishbone Clover and Stefania of CityMama are turning 40 this year and we're milking it to death, just like Jennifer Aniston. Will John Mayer write us a special 40th birthday song? No? Whatever.

Turning 40

09/08/2009

Turning 40 has been all about my boobs. Partly because (in the words of my adoring husband) I'm getting "sluttier" as I get older, and "finally" bringing them out more. The other part is that when you turn 40 you're supposed to "finally" schedule your a baseline mammogram -- unless you've been unlucky enough to have to go sooner.

My number came up in May. Actually, the Nice Nurse Practitioner in my Mean GP's office handed me the paperwork for my baseline mammogram last fall.

Yeah, a year ago.

I let the paperwork sit there for 12 months because I didn't have time to walk literally across the street to the boob center for the 15 minute long appointment. And yes, in that same period of time I also managed to squeeze in at least 12 hair appointments, several movies and a vacation or two.

Eventually I had to get around to it, so last week I rolled out of bed and got it done. If you're screwing around and putting it off, for Chrissake, just go. It wasn't that big of a deal. In some ways it's kind of positive. And at least no one puts anything metal inside of you and says, "Just relax, you're going to feel some pressure."

Oh, wait, they do say that, but I promise, there are no metal probes, of any kind, in any orifices.

Sure, the boob squeezing is uncomfortable/hurts. It's strange to have a woman adjusting "you" on a glass plate thing. And who loves having a flash of radiation going through any part of your body? But all of the women who work at the boob center are so nice, and so reassuring. You feel like you're in good hands, at times literally because ... well, see above.

Mainly I was floored that squashing your boob between two glass plates is the best innovation that modern medicine has been able to develop to detect breast cancer. I mean, I'm a lay person and not very good math, but even I can see the potential of ultrasound.

I even said out loud, "Really? That's the best they could come up with?" The wonderful technician gave me the most reassuring pat on the back I've ever received in my life, which I appreciated even though I wasn't upset, just dumbfounded.

My mother-in-law is a nurse, and she shared this thought from one of her coworkers: If men had an annual appointment to get their balls squashed between two plates of glass, they'd find a better way to do the screening pretty damn quick.

To that end, boob center where I went asks women to give a small blood sample when you get your mammogram, and to give them permission to have a copy of your mammogram for a study. They hope to develop a blood test that will one day (Goddess willing) replace the mammogram.

Even with my small veins -- I've been told not to even try to give blood anymore, "We can't all help the same way, dear," -- I agreed to be in the study. Anything to help find a better way to take care of The Girls for all the girls out there!

And so another milestone gets checked off the list! I still prefer the ones that come with vodka, but all things considered, it was pretty good.

07/02/2009

So ... remember a few months ago, when Stefania and I started this site? And we said we wanted to take kooky trips and have adventures and generally spend the whole year celebrating?

(Please see: "The Not Bucket List" to your right.)

Well, wishing made things so, and we're taking a pre-BlogHer road trip, up through Michigan and then across the state to Chicago for the conference at the end of July.

Actually, it wasn't wishing so much as finding some visionaries at the Ford Motor Company, who agreed that our "Ford Fan Pilgrimage from the Past to the Future" idea was as awesome (or perhaps funny) as we did.

What's a "Ford Fan Pilgrimage from the Past to the Future"? Glad you asked! It involves:

picking up a Ford Mustang in Dearborn, MI (is it wrong to wish on every shooting star that it will be a beautiful, powerful, badassShelby GT500?)

(Btw, if it's what God needs to make it so, I will also cross the threshold of a Catholic church and light as many candles as it takes.)

(Besides, it's not like we're asking for the Super Snake Package, or being picky about colors or demanding the convertible. We're grateful for whatever we get, we just hope it will be a black and white Shelby, and not even a convertible because we're driving long distances, and that's a lot of wind and sun for your hair to deal with.)

driving the absolute speed limit (at least whenever we see cops) up to Mackinac Island, where we will stay at the Grand Hotel, setting of the romantic cult classic film Somewhere in Time -- we even get to interview the Hotel Historian, who will hopefully clear up this whole "travel through time using only the power of your mind" shenanigans.

shooting back down to Detroit, where we get to tour the Ford plant and ask a million questions about their new models, sustainability, and who gets to name the colors.

swapping our glorious Ford Mustang/Possibly Badass Shelby GT500 (which we plan to name The McKenna, after Jane Seymour's character in Somewhere in Time) for something else, perhaps a Ford Fusion Hybrid.

(Naturally, our second car will be called The Collier, after Christopher Reeve's character in the film.)

hanging out with the delightfully zesty Queen of Spain, who threatened to make us do shots promised to show us the "sights" around the greater Detroit area.

making our way to Chicago, and arriving a day or two before BlogHer, all the better to receive a personal tour from our dear friends Sassafrass and Foodmomiac. They're going to reveal the secret, best things about Chicago to us, before the other 1,000 crazy blogging women arrive.

After all of that amazing fun, we get to go to BlogHer!

Of course we're going to blog, tweet, Facebook and (gulp) YouTube every step of the way, so you won't miss a moment! Stay tuned for all of the exciting, over-sharing details.

And hey, if you have suggestions for places to see on the way, please, please PLEASE leave 'em in the comments!

06/15/2009

A recreation of the look I gave that nosy bitch. I had to use wine, but you get the idea.Do I look pregnant?

So it happened again. For the second time in my life, someone asked me if I was pregnant. And I'm not. I don't even have kids. Plus, I feel like I'm always on a diet and workout all the goddamned time. How can I look pregnant?

It was not lost on me that this happened during my (extended) 40th birthday celebration. Is this the inevitable slowdown of my metabolism, which was never winning any races in the first place?

More to the point, how the fuck do you respond to a question like that?

05/26/2009

Chief, my (very proud) husband really enjoyed my Forever 21 leopougar birthday dress. You could say my chest area got a lot of attention the other night. There are a lot of too many pictures, and Chief has some big plans* for his Facebook page. This is just a "taste."

05/23/2009

Can you guess who? Who is it, do you think, who is celebrating the big 4-0? Who is filling out her subscription to More magazine as we speak? Who is rushing out to buy Metamucil and Depends for Women as soon as she puts in her dentures?

Why, yes! It's our very own, beloved Bad Kitty!

Doesn't she look wonderful? So ageless...So timeless...Not a day over 27...or at least she would if we could see her face.

Oh, Bad Kitty, no need to hide. Not today. It's time to take down the shroud and step proudly into 40. (upraisedarms Jai!)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BAD KITTY!

Here's to the next 40 whatever years! The last decade or so has been such an amazing adventure. I can't wait to see what happens next. Lake Como, penthouse apartment on the Seine, beach house in Hawaii...here we come!

05/14/2009

One of my most fun writing gigs is for UpTake, the travel site that searches over 5,000 other sites, making it one-stop-easy to plan a vacation. With a couple of clicks you can search through restaurants, hotels, attractions, and even full vacation packages, anywhere in the U.S.

04/07/2009

On Saturday afternoon I was enjoying my Us Weekly subscription, when I saw something that jolted me out of my chair -- according to them, Mariah and her cougar bait husband just celebrated her 39th birthday, not 40th.

Shit, do we need to come up with the money for a fact checker around here? Too bad, because we're so getting a (mute) pool boy/bartender first.

It turns out that Mariah is a woman of mystery. In some places it says that she was born in 1970, in others that she was born in 1969. Her People bio says 1969, and her wikipedia page has both dates, telling you something interesting about wikipedia's reliability.

Whatever. I stand by my original post about Mariah making 40 look good, whatever her real age winds up being. There's a huge difference between 15 and 16, or 20 and 21. Even 29 and 30. But by the time you hit 39, you might as well be 40.

Once we pass 35ish, we're all in pretty much the same boat, the S.S. Thank You For Checking My ID.

Mimi's first rate ass is making us all look good, so thank you and Happy Birthday Songbutterfly!

04/02/2009

Here we are about to turn 40 and I just have one question: what are we supposed to wear?

I was talking to my friend Pamela yesterday (who, by the way, always looks smashing and is a fashion icon in her own right) and she posed the questions, "Can I still shop at Anthropologie? Or Target?" And I was all, "I covet the Tory Burch jelly ballet flats but are they too ridiculous for a 40-year-old?" (Never mind that I'd never pay $95 for them...)

In the end we decided that our feet are sweatier now than in the 80's when we last wore jellies, but we really didn't have an answer to the "what do we wear?" question.

So what does a 40-year-old wear? I have to say, I pretty much thumb my nose at all of the fashion rules. I am the queen of seasonally inappropriate footwear and wear my flip-flops--even white ones--well into the winter. I was born in Hawaii and live in Northern California and it's not that cold here. Bad Kitty and I pretty much agree that white is a year-round color so fuck the Labor Day-Memorial Day rule. We follow the P. Diddy rule.

And, as a plus-sized laydee, I can't shop at places like Anthropologie where a size 14 is really just a size they make for Japanese girls with boob jobs. I do shop Target and Old Navy and Gap Tall and have a closet-full of INC and Calvin Klein and Michael Kors because they make stuff I can wear. I still wear my black jelly bracelets (the kind from high school), and I love accessories, especially mixing family heirloom jewelry with stuff from Claire's, and yeah, I probably skew a little young, but does 40 mean suddenly having to dress your age? And what does that mean anyway?

Does it mean this? Seriously. Click on the video, you'll want to slash your wrists as soon as you hear the music.

I know ironic tees and probably braids and maybe even shorts are out for people my age, but will I have to start wearing pleated khakis? Or colors like soft teal and lavender? It's bad enough that I already wear the bathing suit with the skirt. (Which, yeah, okay, I love.) Will I have to start shopping at Chico's or LL Bean or far back wall at Target? Please don't make me go there. I like the rounders by the aisle. I'd rather die than put on anything made of faille or wool or adorned with French cuffs or that dowdy Ferragamo bow. And I rather die than shop at a store that sells sunglasses and purses to match the clothes. That's not even fine when your 5 and it's Gymboree. Will I have to trade my metallic gladiator sandals for sensible pumps? Stop streaking my hair every color of the rainbow? All I know is: we're turning 40 and we're in a fashion black hole. Where's that hot bitch Tim Gunn when you need him?

So tell me. What are your thoughts on this? What too-young-for-you clothing item or accessories will they have to pry off your cold, dead body? And, who are you wearing?

04/01/2009

I was raised by a mother who lovingly took me up to the Clinique counter on my twelfth birthday for my "computer analysis" (remember that plastic hunk of junk and those sliders?) to determine my 3-step skin care program (soap, toner, and moisturizer). By the time I was in my teens, I had graduated to Erno Laszlo's Sea Mud soap (the stuff that turned your sink black) + 30 splashes therapy. Needless to say, the importance of taking care of one's skin was taught to me at an early age.

Over the years I haven't strayed much from my original cleanse-moisturize routine, in fact, as I approach 40 I have recently begun to use Sea Mud soap again mainly because it smells like the 80's and that makes me giddy. I haven't used toner since practically searing the skin off my face with Sea Breeze toner in 1981 (who else remembers the acid burns?), but I still moisturize everyday and have a bathroom cupboard full of potions and creams to soften and smooth every part of my upperbody from forehead to shoulders. (My stomach and thighs remain butter-soft due to a nice padding of fat.) But nothing is more important to me than a good firming, anti-wrinkle eye cream.

As I've said before, I wear cheap shoes so I can buy expensive cookware, and I would lump eye creams into that category, although the Pond's is a steal. I'm not one to go running for Botox and am too much of a control freak to ever consider surgery, but I can stave off the crow's feet for as long as I can. I don't mind getting older, just don't want to feel older. I'll win the fight... until I start to lose it. Like the battle I'm losing with my ass.

40 Whatever Approved

Things to Do When We're 40 (The Not Bucket List)

A barbecue tour of the South

We'll start in the Carolinas and end in Texas and sample the best barbecue America has to offer. Why? Because we like meat.

Hotel Living

We like: mini bars, movies, and lounging around in our pajamas with our laptops right where they are supposed to be. We'll bring running shoes to pretend like we're going to work out, but really, who are we kidding. You see where this is going?

Knock some sense into dumb people

We'd love to be the camp counselors on a show like the Real World or Rock of Love.

Eating Dinner in a Vineyard While the Sun Sets

You know those scenes of a dining table set in a Tuscan or Sonoma vineyard dressed with beautiful linens and people sitting around it drinking wine and eating and laughing while the sun goes down? We want to be those people.

Yoga Retreat in New Mexico

Some of our fondest memories are of spending time doing yoga together. Do other wannabe yoginis spend the entire class laughing together? We do.